


Bullet

by mofumanju



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Agent AU, M/M, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 05:03:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mofumanju/pseuds/mofumanju
Summary: Dead end.“Fuck,” he says again, turning around, as one of his hands runs to his gun - it’s just a matter of seconds, he just has to fire two shots, he can do it before he collapses for blood loss, and save his ass, save Eichi’s, save everyone and get home barely wounded.He can do it.And he does, oh if he does, when the two men who were chasing him just a few moments ago find themselves in front of the gun and have not even the time to scream.Bang bang. And three bodies fall on the ground with a dull thud, Keito’s eyes closing as Eichi’s voice reaches his ears.Ah, he made him worry again.





	Bullet

**Author's Note:**

> I am shit with titles.  
> Also, this fic was sitting on my twitlonger for three years, and I don't know where I found the strength to finish it, but now it's finished so yay!
> 
> Comments appreciated, blablabla, the same things!

It’s the time of a breath sharply inhaled, the time of his eyelids fluttering at the speed of light, the rush of adrenaline filling his blood in an instant when the bullet brushes against his hip and lacerates his trousers, reddening his skin, his flesh, his clothes.

“Fuck,” he whispers, gritting his teeth, his hands running to his side to push, push, push to keep blood from flooding - it’s just a scratch, he repeats to himself, nothing more than a scratch that burns like hell, damn it. Something just cut the air next to his ear, hisses like a snake ready to bite its venom right into his veins, but Keito is safe, at least for now - he doesn’t mind his hands starting to get coloured in bright red, he doesn’t mind the ringing in his ears as his steps resound in the hallway he’s running. 

Dead end. 

“Fuck,” he says again, turning around, as one of his hands runs to his gun - it’s just a matter of seconds, he just has to fire two shots, he can do it before he collapses for blood loss, and save his ass, save Eichi’s, save everyone and get home barely wounded. 

He can do it. 

And he does, oh if he does, when the two men who were chasing him just a few moments ago find themselves in front of the gun and have not even the time to scream.   
Bang bang. And three bodies fall on the ground with a dull thud, Keito’s eyes closing as Eichi’s voice reaches his ears.

Ah, he made him worry again.

*

His ears are still ringing when he opens his eyes, green fields staring at a white ceiling, familiar and yet so obnoxious. There’s no sound around him, and that makes him glad, because it means he’s not attached to any supporting machine and he’s not dying, or at least, not risking to. But he can feel it clearly, the sharp pain crossing his abdomen, starting from his side and spreading through his whole body.

“You’ll make me die, one of these days,” it’s the first thing he hears when he finally starts to breathe despite the pain piercing his body. His head flops on his side, his eyes on Eichi’s frown directed at him, and Keito feels like he didn’t sleep enough. 

“That’s pretty much what I’m trying to avoid, thank you very much.” 

He lowers his eyes, staring at the blankets covering his body, and he goes rigid for a moment when he feels the soft skin of Eichi’s fingers brushing against the back of his hand. It’s a gentle touch, too caring, too warm - that, that will be the end of him, that fondness Eichi puts in every gesture towards him, that softness he only shows to Keito, his Keito, and that will bring him straight to his coffin, sooner or later. Because too much kindness will make his heart grow weak, and he can’t allow himself that - not when he made a vow to protect Eichi’s life with his own, not when he promised himself to fulfil his work and save him from whatever mess he puts himself into.

A frustrated growl dies in his throat, as he turns his head towards Eichi again. His eyes soften, eyebrows relaxing, his breath still a bit too quick because of the sharp pain that reverberates on his abdomen, but he’s fine, or at least he’s still breathing, so it’s okay. 

It’s okay.

“What happened?” he asks, and he tries hard not to lose himself in the touch of Eichi’s hand, focusing instead on his face, on his eyes veiled with a worry that’s slowly waning. 

“Tori got a concussion, but he’s fine. Isara is analysing the items we collected in the underground, but the case might just be closed as it is.”

“... what about you?”

Eichi smiles, lowering his head, eyes wandering everywhere but on Keito’s face for a moment - is it perhaps shame, the one he catches a glimpse of in his blue irises?

“You acted as a decoy, Keito. You could have been killed just because of me. Of course I’m fine, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I got hurt after what you did.”

There’s the sound of Eichi’s chair scratching against the floor as he gets closer, elbows on Keito’s bed and his hand, callous and red with little cuts, is now so close to Eichi’s mouth that Keito can feel his warm breath against its skin. The brush of his lips against his bruised skin makes his stomach twist softly, warmth pooling on his belly like a comforting blanket. Keito is tired, exhausted, and honestly, he would nap for another bit just to be sure to feel better when he’ll open his eyes again. Yet, he can’t ignore Eichi, not now, not when he feels his lips trembling a bit as they kiss his hand once again.

“I’m fine.”

“But what if you weren’t, what if that shoot got your head and…” 

“I’m fine, Eichi.”

Silence drops, heavy like a duvet on summer, and Eichi’s smile is so fake that Keito is scared, for a moment, to know what’s behind it. “I really thought I could have lost you today. I would have died too. Not before killing them, of course.”  
Ah, there it is, the reason behind his fear, Eichi’s tone lowering as he whispers those last words, blue eyes darkening like the ocean during a storm. Keito closes his eyes for a moment, tasting the blood on his chapped lips and feeling something different running on his system, together with something he doesn’t really know dripping from the IV - he’s not sure it’s morphine, since the pain is still lingering on his body like a way too attached friend, but well, he doesn’t mind that now. His mind is distracted by Eichi’s eyes, by Eichi’s lips over his fingers one by one, kisses popping on his ears like soap bubbles, too fragile to survive for more than a few seconds. “You shouldn’t have done that Keito, what if I lost you?”

“What’s the meaning of being by your side if I can’t protect you?” It’s the blunt answer that escapes his mouth, a heavy breath following right after. His head rests in the pillow - and oh, he just notices now how his forehead is well bandaged, hair pulling where some strands got stuck. But Eichi doesn’t stop looking at him, kissing each scratch on his hand, old and new scars marking his skin like a minefield.  
“Your job isn’t to protect me, Keito,” and there’s a hint of annoyance in his voice, as if this isn’t the first time they deal with this. The strength around Keito’s hand tightens a bit, Eichi leaning on its palm to rest his cheek on it for a moment. “Your job is to stay by my side.”  
Keito would reply, but Eichi isn’t of the same advice, too busy kissing his hand again to pay attention to his words - words that die on his throat anyway, the moment Eichi’s tongue gently brushes against his broken skin, making it burn a bit. 

Ah, his head is spinning.

“Eichi…”

“I have no intention to lose you. Not now, not in a thousand years. Stop putting your life on the line for me, it’s not what I want. A life without you wouldn’t be worth living. Because you know...” He gets on his feet, Eichi, and he doesn’t leave his hand as he gets closer to the bed and leans towards him with eyes shining in so many ways that Keito can’t distinguish any of them. “I would follow you, wherever you go.”

There’s anger, despair, a touch of hunger lingering on his eyes - Keito would see more, but Eichi’s lips are pressing over his own now. Keito closes his eyes, relaxing on the pillow, his lips parting on their own to welcome Eichi inside - it was a close call, after all, and if he’s usually reluctant to let himself go to any kind of affection, now he just feels like it’s the only right thing to do, letting himself go, let Eichi take the lead and kiss him. The only thing he allows himself to do is raising a hand, and letting his fingers sink in that silky, golden hair - the more he can feel, the better. 

He’s still alive, he can still feel him.

The mattress squeaks, filling the silence around them when Eichi climbs onto it, ignoring the IV on Keito’s arm, making himself room between his legs before he attacks his lips again, a bit more passionate, a bit wilder. Ah, the taste of pain is so sweet on the tip of his tongue, when Eichi bites his lip enough to break the skin, enough to paint it in red.

His own blood tastes like heaven, mixed with Eichi’s saliva, and oh, he knows he should tell him to stop, he knows he should tell him that he needs to rest now, or he won’t be able to be of any help for too long - but how could he, when he can feel Eichi’s fear of losing him on his gentle touch, on his tongue twisting inside his mouth to get more, to realise Keito is still alive and well, after all?

He can’t deny him that, not now. 

Keito’s hand moves between Eichi’s nape and his back, slowly, moving in circles to soothe his soul and tell it there’s no need to be scared anymore, because he won’t go anywhere. But Eichi is lost in his thoughts, lost in the need to feel him, so much that when he bites Keito’s lips again and Keito hisses in surprise, he apologies. 

“It’s okay,” Keito whispers on his lips, getting his chance to breathe and fill his lungs with Eichi’s scent, Eichi’s presence invading the air and slipping on his body. Keito is starting to ignore the dull pain on his side, slowly being replaced with something warmer, something better, that makes his muscles tense sweetly at every brush Eichi gives him. Ah, he can feel him against his groin, Eichi’s hips moving slowly, almost in a hypnotizing way.

“I won’t allow…” he whispers, his voice broken and hot like chocolate against Keito’s neck. “I won’t allow anyone to take you away from me.”

There’s a hint of possessiveness, between his words, something that makes Keito’s stomach twist again - and oh, should he be allowed to feel aroused for that, when he was so close to death? He bites his lower lip just seconds before Eichi attacks him again, lips against lips, teeth against teeth. It’s passionate, lava invading his mouth with a vague taste of tea that Keito will always associate to the man towering him, no matter what. Eichi’s hands slide from his face and down his neck, his chest, resting for a moment over his heart - it’s running like crazy, now, and it’s not good, not good at all for his health, but fuck it, he thinks, as Eichi presses softly. 

“Ah, it’s beating so fast.”

He smiles, looking at him, as if his eyes want to tell him that he knows, what that heart is beating fast for. And Keito would even answer to that, but words fail him when Eichi’s hand moves on his chest, stopping again to play with his most sensitive areas. There’s a knot forming on his throat that he hardly manages to swallow, because Eichi’s hands are so good on his body, sending waves of pleasure through it, and down between his legs. He arches a bit, towards that touch, but he regrets it the moment his wound screams, jolts of pain striking his body and cutting his breath once again. Eichi just stops and waits, looking at him in concern and gently caressing his neck to bring him back - “It’s fine, you’re okay, I’ve got you.”  
Ah, he knows he does. He takes him a moment to learn how to breathe again, to let the pain soothe and disappears as it came. He doesn’t notice Eichi’s hands moving again, gentler now, almost scared to give him unnecessary pain. Keito knows it won’t last for long, though, because the wound is still fresh, it doesn’t matter how caring Eichi will be.   
And still, he doesn’t care.  
They’ve always lived on the verge of dying, missions bringing them back home covered in dirt and blood, even if most of times it’s not theirs. Sometimes, Keito wonders if he’ll end dying sooner or later, wounded by a bullet right on his chest, or killed by a stab right at his heart. 

When Eichi touches him, when Eichi climbs to his bed to claim him, full-mouthed kisses on his neck and hips moving like waves of a storming ocean, Keito finds himself not caring about that more than he should. He promised he would have died for the man above him. If love is what he gets back for that, then he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if Eichi hurts him in the process, he doesn’t care if pain mingles with pleasure and makes his head spin - it makes him feel alive, anyway, so it’s not really a bore. 

It’s not a bore at all. 

Hands slip through his body, slender and pale fingers touching every inch of skin they can, lingering where the red of the wound screams angrily. Keito hisses between his teeth, but it’s not unbearable pain, no. He is still breathing, his blood is still pumping on his veins, so he can’t complain, even if his head is starting to feel dizzy again, who knows if because of the pain or the pleasure.

It doesn’t matter now. For Keito, right now, what matters is to feel every single touch on his body, to register the feeling and save it for memory, a fuel that will help him live in the darkest times. He closes his eyes and spreads his legs a bit, giving Eichi some more space, and it’s not like he regrets it the following instant but God, if Eichi takes advantage of it. In the blink of an eye, his breath shortens, abruptly interrupted by the body above him pressing against his pelvis, making his sight be covered by a thousand tiny stars. It’s amazing, how the human body can ignore pain and fatigue for a bit of pleasure. 

“Look at me,” Eichi whispers, and Keito knows that’s not a request, but an order he is willing to follow forever, if necessary. And when he obeys there is a storm in front of him, baby blue eyes darkening as time dies around them. “Just look at me,” and there is the clinging of Keito’s belt filling the air for a second, the zip of his trousers being pulled down in a slow movement. 

He obliges.

The rustle of his trousers getting taken off makes Keito’s stomach twist in pleasure, shivers shaking his back as his fingers close around the blankets under his body. Eichi is slow, so slow in his movements, and when Keito’s legs are free and bare he just brushes his inner thighs with soft touches, one hand slipping under his left knee to raise his leg a bit. Every move is calculated, Eichi’s lips pressing on his calf, lips leaving wet marks on his skin and burning it like fire. It’s distracting, tantalizing, the way he never breaks eye contact, the way his lips bend in a smile, kiss after kiss - and Keito finds himself unable to look away; actually, the only thing he can do is swallowing that knot of excitement that’s been rolling on his tongue for a while, now. 

Or at least, until he feels cold fingers pressing against his groin. He arches, his body jerking to the touch, and the hiss of pain soon dies on his lips, followed by a moan that reverberates into his chest like water disturbed by a stone, heavy and hot as the feeling rapidly spread through his body. He feels Eichi’s smile widening against his thigh, and the hum leaving his mouth is just a hint of his satisfaction. He moves, teeth biting softly over his knees before he traces a trail of kisses as he bends towards his groin. When Eichi stops, when he opens his mouth just a little more, just to abuse the soft skin of his inner thigh to taste his flavour biting and sucking without hesitancy, Keito just growls, pinning his elbows to the mattress and raising his back a bit more - just to be stopped right in that moment. 

“Be quiet,” Eichi whispers, his hand leaving his growing arousal to push gently against Keito’s chest. “I am the one leading, today.”

And his push is soft, gentle, and sends Keito over the edge. God, Eichi shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be so close when Keito has just risked dying, because he will make him too emotional, too sensitive to every single touch, every single brush of fingers - he can feel it, that hand sliding slowly from his chest to his belly, before he stops just under his navel. It’s a second that lasts for minutes, Eichi’s fingertips going around that soft skin before they resume their journey towards the point where heat is pooling the most, his arousal way too evident now to deny it. Eichi kisses his thigh where a flower has bloomed, red as a spider lily, and brushes the tip of his nose against that mark that’s telling them that blood is still rushing in Keito’s veins, and it’s not spreading on the floor of an abandoned building. 

“You made a promise, Keito,” he whispers, as his finger stops just over his arousal, playing with it, teasing it where the fabric is tending and wetting with pleasure, “and I have any intention to make you keep it.”

He knows Eichi is referring to what happened just hours before, but those words on his lips are a brush to his soul, the deepest part of him shaking as the man between his legs starts to kiss his skin again, and oh, if only he pressed those fingers just a bit more, just a bit…  
He has no control over his hips, when they jerk again, satisfying his needs just for a moment. Eichi chuckles and it’s the voice of an angel whispering to his ear - or, more probably, the whisper of the Devil himself. “Let things make their course, Keito. I don’t want you to get hurt. Relax, do it for me, mh?”  
And he tries to, because there is no way he could win, not when his side reminds him of the bullet he almost took to save Eichi’s life, not when those slender, pale fingers start to work him with gentle touches, tensing the muscle of his abdomen, his thighs trembling as they part a bit more. He finally lets him take the lead, entrusting his life on his hands and relaxing against the pillow, eyes closed just to take a breath, just to find his composure again. It takes moments, before Eichi shows mercy and takes Keito’s underwear off, air not as hot as his body that brushes against his skin like a gust of wind. But well, he has no time to complain, not when Eichi’s hand wraps around his cock and starts to stroke it, slowly, as if he was handling something precious. Breath cuts inside his lungs and the only, pathetic outcome is a broken moan that fills his own ears, and the air around them.   
“Good,” Eichi comments, and when Keito opens his eyes again, he finds a smile welcoming him back, eyes liquid with pleasure - he just notices how Eichi’s free hand has left his leg to land between his owner’s thighs, moving slowly and painting Eichi’s face in pink.  
The view makes him sigh, teeth sinking in his lower lip as his breath gets a bit more laboured, now that Eichi’s grip gets more resolute. He indulges for a moment on the head of his cock with the tip of his fingers, beads of pleasure wetting it in anticipation. It acts on pure instinct, his hand closing in a fist and pressing against his mouth in a bland attempt to choke a louder moan, legs trembling as he tries not to move more than necessary.

“Tut-tut, Keito,” and it’s incredible, how soft Eichi’s voice is despite the hint of arousal tainting it now. “I want to hear it. Let it out.”

Keito is not worried about the rest of their team hearing them, but really, giving up to pleasure now seems too overwhelming. He tries his best, though, to pull his hand away from his mouth, deciding instead to rest it on Eichi’s cheek for a second. He gets a nod in response, and then, everything turns into blissfulness. 

Heat is spreading from Eichi’s lips in that single second they rest on the tip of his cock, before his mouth welcomes him inside. That much is enough to make his heart run faster, and even if the pain is still there, stabbing his side every time he tries to breathe deeper, Keito accepts it as a blessing. 

Because it is. Because he could be on a table instead of a bed, because he could be buried in darkness instead of being wrapped in the comforting warmth of Eichi’s love. His voice is low, a growl that breaks the silence of the room when he brushes against Eichi’s throat and he feels his shaft throbbing. He doesn’t judge Eichi for ignoring his condition, because he wouldn’t want to be any other place - he wouldn’t want him any other way but that. Close to the point that he can feel Eichi’s breath against his crotch, a moan that shakes him to his heart. His body is filled with shivers when those lips start working him, Eichi’s head pulling back just so that he can cover Keito’s cock with kisses, nuzzle against it with fondness. He traces its whole length, getting to the tip again to suck on it, and swallow it whole again. 

It’s another moan, it’s the soft, wet sound of Eichi’s hand around his own cock, making Keito sigh in pleasure, life rushing in his veins again - he won again, right? There is no way he will let Death take him before wrinkles break his skin and his heart stops on its own volition - there is no way he will let Death take him before his lover. Those are the notes of a triumph accompanying them to the walk of Glory. 

And he wants to sing every single one of them. It doesn’t matter if his body aches, it doesn’t matter if blood is still regenerating, if he should rest instead of indulging in the hunger he shares with the man he promises his life to. Eichi’s mouth is the gateway to Heaven, and he is no one to deny him the pleasure to walk him in. 

His hips jerk, ignoring the pain; Eichi is warm around him, his tongue flat against his hard cock as he collects the first beads of cum rolling down, and that’s enough to bear with the discomfort carried by his body. Even if he’s short on breath, he still throbs against Eichi’s palate, he still opens his legs more, his hand reaching for the silky sea of gold of Eichi’s hair. Somehow, it helps him to tame the urge to thrust his hips - he’s not stupid, and even if he can feel the tension building on his muscles, he knows all too well that he’s not allowed such a strain. He wants to heal fast, be back on the battlefield.

Have some decent sex, even.

He can feel Eichi smiling against, although he’s not sure how. He realises he was keeping his eyes closed until that moment, and when the green of his eyes is allowed to see the world again he swallows hard, Eichi’s name lost in the softest moans, in the wettest sounds. God, he’s already that close, he thinks, too weak to the man working his mouth on him, sacred place Keito feels like he’s defiling now. The sloppy sound of Eichi’s lips bobbing his head makes him breathe faster, and oh, his eyes are glued to him now - there’s a tad of despair in the way Eichi’s arm move faster, faster, meeting the rhythm of his suction. When he parts from his cock for a moment, the time of kissing its tip and smile at him, Keito feels like dying.

“Cum for me, Keito.”

And he does, when Eichi assaults him again like a hungry man after days of starvation, taking it wholly until there’s no more space in his mouth. It’s a moment, a gentle squeeze at the base of his cock and the soft moan that vibrates around his shaft doing the trick. He can’t avoid getting tense, and even if it provokes the strongest jolt of pain he has experienced since he came back to the world of living, Keito feels like he has never felt any better before. 

It’s amazing. 

Release feels like a blessing, as he pins his head to the pillow and arches his back, pushing more inside that throat so wonderfully relax to welcome every spurt of cum, life living his body to die inside his lover. Keito is not sure if the world is turning white because of his climax or because of his wound reminding him he escaped the final judgement again, but at that point it doesn’t really matter. Eichi’s voice reaches his ears, muffled by the hulking presence inside his mouth, and Keito knows that he’s coming too - he can imagine him spilling seed against the blankets of his bed.

Incorrigible. 

He’s panting, as he comes off his high, and the room he’s resting in gets its colours back. He has lost track of reality for a few seconds, apparently, because Eichi is sitting on his calves now, a thumb brushing off what he couldn’t welcome in his mouth - well, not until that moment, at least. They look at each others for a moment, but his eyelids are heavy, now that he has no warm lips on his body, distracting him from the weariness he’s accompanying him since he fainted in those undergrounds. 

He closes his eyes, the creaking of the mattress the only noise in the room. A moment later, Eichi’s lips are pressed on his, the faint taste of his own cum lingering between them. 

“Don’t you dare giving me a fright like this ever again, Keito. Understood?” and even if Eichi’s voice is amused, Keito can feel the pain veiling them. He hums, slightly nodding, because he really has no strength to say anything more. Oblivion tastes wonderful on his lips, and as he feels the gentle thud of a chair being place next to his bed, he thinks that he can give up trying to keep himself conscious. 

He’s not going anywhere.


End file.
